


Blessed Are Those Who Mourn

by Waterlemon



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Denial of Feelings, Eventual Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Low Honor Arthur Morgan, Low honor to High honor, M/M, Maybe - Freeform, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Character Death, Paternity Doubts, Protective Arthur Morgan, Secret Relationship, Serious Injuries, Slow Burn, Smut, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:34:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28366230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waterlemon/pseuds/Waterlemon
Summary: “Are we losing him, Dutch?”Dutch exhaled, averting his eyes elsewhere when he saw the pain and fear in John’s eyes. “Now don’t say such ludicrous things like that. It will pass. Time heals all wounds, son. You see…Grief…It’s something everyone will go through inevitably. He’ll come around soon."(Where Arthur takes Eliza and Isaac's death much harder than he did originally and John tries to help him.)
Relationships: Eliza/Arthur Morgan (past), John Marston/Arthur Morgan
Comments: 14
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if you find any mistakes! I don't have someone to proofread and edit this oops.

_1888_

“Can’t we do target practice instead?” John complained with a huff  as he dragged himself behind Arthur, playfully poking the man’s back and kicking small rocks as he followed the man to his horse.

Arthur paid no mind the kid since he wasn’t causing any  real harm. He chuckled softly and glanced at the  energetic  boy. “Same thing, just usin’ a bow an’  arrow to hunt this time.” Arthur replied calmly  with a shrug as he prepared for their short journey, hanging the bow on his shoulders and placing the herbivore bait in his saddle bag.

John  stood  restlessly, shifting his feet from left to right and pretending to fight Arthur by throwing light punches to the man’s broad back, feeling nothing but hard muscles there. His energy was accumulated from being at camp all day yesterday. Dutch may have punished the boy by making him help Pearson with chopping carrots and peeling potatoes for causing trouble for them the one time they decided to take the fifteen year old into to town with them.

Arthur heaved a sigh, feeling John’s small fists on his back. “The hell are you doin’, kiddo?” Arthur turned to face the impatient boy with a smirk, grabbing the his skinny wrists before they could connect to his chest, not that it’d hurt. Arthur let out a warm laugh at how silly John could be sometimes.

“Nothin’!” John gave Arthur an innocent look while he subtly tried to escape Arthur’s iron grip and failing. “I ain’t doin’ anything!” He  said in a high pitched voice,  a blush spreading on his cheeks.

Arthur shook his head and let go of the skinny hands, not wanting to bruise the kid. “Come on, get on the  damn  horse.” Arthur  said in a deep tone and  smiled  fondly  at John, eyes twinkling in the daylight. He pushed the boy near the  mare  and helped him up.

John smiled back at the man as he climbed up, feeling Arthur’s strong yet gentle hands on his hips to prevent him from slipping and cracking his skull open on a rock or something. John knew Arthur would never hurt him intentionally - well, unless he had a good reason to. John loved that the man really cared about him as if they were family, but everyone in the gang was family and they looked out for one another. Though Arthur was always there to teach him, whether it was reading,  writing, or shooting a gun.  _He_ was the one who made sure John was okay during a storm, providing him with blankets,  even  his own blankets just to keep John warm. The man would go as far as staying in John’s tent during the night to hold him if the younger had nightmares. John never got that kind of treatment before, certainly not from his father, so he was attached to Arthur in a way. Always following the man and looking up to him with admiration in his brown eyes.

“Learnin’ how to use a bow  can come in real handy for ya’, Johnny. Don’t wanna hear you complainin’  for the rest of the  ride,  am I  clear?” Arthur  said  in his gravelly voice that made John shiver. The older man climbed behind John and made a clicking sound with his tongue before the horse started walking away from the camp.

“Yessir,” John  breathed out in  annoyance, masking the real excitement he felt about going out on a hunt with Arthur. Hell, even if it was finishing, he’d be excited. Anything that meant  being  away from camp, from M iss  Grimshaw’s loud nagging, sounded good to John.

“You cold or somethin’?” 

“N-no,” 

-

They arrived at the woods some time later, both males’ skin shining with sweat  under  the cruel heat of the sun during this time of day.

Arthur got off his horse, Boadicea, and patted her neck before giving her an apple, lightly cooing some words to her that John didn’t  bother listening. After Arthur was done, he tried helping John down but the kid insisted he could climb off a horse by himself.

“Oh, he  _insists!_ Don’t sprain an ankle.” John rolled his eyes at what Arthur said, hearing the  smug  smile in his tone. John glared and stuck his tongue out at him before  attempting to climb down.  It was a bit difficult since Arthur’s horse was too damn tall for John  , but he managed. He looked up at Arthur and saw the man smiling proudly at him before he felt a firm  hand  lightly smacking his back. John’s heart fluttered, happy to see the man proud of him like that.

After gathering their baits and the arrows, the two slowly made they way around the quiet forest, avoiding dead leaves that might scare off any animal nearby. John silently followed Arthur who was looking for a good spot to place to place the bait when something caught John’s attention from the corner of his eyes.

The boy stopped following the older man and turned his head towards the direction of the movement he caught. The boy froze completely. It was as if he was under some spell that paralyzed him. His eyes were wide as he stared at the animal close by. The animal’s size was  almost  as  big  as a horse. It had a light brown coat and two unique antlers that didn’t look real to John. Maybe he was hallucinating from how hot it was  . He was even afraid to blink, not wanting to scare the animal away. Its head was down, chewing on the torn grass that decorated the forest floor. He ha s  never seen one this close, or in that size. He has  seen deers from a distance before, but they were always running away the opposite direction for him to see properly. Another times is whenever Arthur brought dead deers for Pearson to cook. Those weren’t pretty at all.

“Arthur! A deer...” John  called for him  in a hushed voice, not wanting to startle the majestic animal. Lucky for him, the wind was blowing the other direction.

Arthur had already placed his bait at a nice spot before he even realized John wasn’t close to him, but he saw him gazing at something at the other side of the forest, something that was between the trees. He caught what it was and smiled.

“That right there is a buck, Jonny.” Arthur said quietly  once he was close to the boy, smiling at the look of awe John sported. “Beautiful, ain’t it?” He whispered, letting the boy admire the animal from a distance.

\- 

_1891_

The sun had just risen, casting a beautiful pale orange color across the chilly blue sky. John was pouring himself some coffee to start his day properly, silently watching Arthur with longing eyes. The older man was preparing his horse for a ride to visit a girl named Eliza. She was a waitress Arthur accidentally impregnated three years ago. The younger secretly dreaded seeing the older man leave to go see Eliza, but he had a son with her, so John never complained. He couldn’t. Not when he kept seeing the sparkle in Arthur’s eyes whenever the man spoke proudly about his son, little Isaac as he liked to call him.

“You gonna be back soon,  Morgan? Dutch want's  us to scout a  ranch  up near Strawberry, remember?” John  croaked  as he walked up to  the taller man  , his heart beating rapidly. He despised how nervous he could get around Arthur sometimes.

“I told you I’m visiting Eliza today, Johnny. Maybe when I get back before the sun goes down, alright?” Arthur assured him as he mounted his horse with a grunt that made John’s heart skip a beat or two.

John  looked up at  him for a second  and worried his bottom lip with his teeth. The younger swallowed down the need to argue. John had prepared his horse for this shit, brushed her down and packed everything only for Arthur to just change his mind whenever he goddamn pleased. 

“Don’t take too long. I have other things to do, you know.” Retorted John, lightly elbowing Arthur’s foot. 

“Right. I would hate to keep ya’ from getting your ass beat on dominos by Hosea.” And with that, Arthur turned his mare around and galloped away with a “Giddy-up!” 

\- 

Arthur never came back that day. John didn’t want to admit it but he  actually waited  for the man to come back  and tried passing time by  doing  boring  chores around the camp. He was currently taking care of the horses, giving them hay and making sure their water was clean and refilled.

“John? Aren’t you supposed to be out with Arthur?” John heard Bessie’s voice  from  behind him and turned to look at her. She had a book in her hands, probably looking to read somewhere quiet.

“Yeah, but he went to visit Eliza first.” John muttered drily  , cleaning the hairs from the horse brush before letting out a sigh. “It’s getting dark though, so we’ll probably head out tomorrow or somethin’.” He added quietly before he  turned to  continue brushing down  Davey’s horse.

Bessie  stood there  for a few more seconds, staring at John with a knowing look. The younger was about to comment on how weird she was being  before  he heard her walking away.  John glanced back at her, making sure she actually left him alone. He always felt tense around that woman for one damn reason.  John ’s felt his cheeks burn up  as he remembered that time Bessie caught him staring at Arthur. The older man was  chopping wood, sweat glistening from the exposed parts of Arthur’s skin, especially his neck and chest where he’d unbuttoned his shirt a bit to avoid overheating. John’s eyes were glued to him with  a tent in his pants. He was only fifteen at the time.  He felt embarrassed and he still does even  after  Hosea spoke to him about it, telling him that  it’s normal for  boys his age  to go through something like this. He was just glad  Bessie  didn’t tell Hosea it  all  happened because of Arthur.

\- 

After a few hours, the sun has set . The sky was now a deep blue. The lanterns and soft fire were the only source of light for the Van Der Linde camp. John was sitting on one of the logs that were around the campfire, some animal skin was draped over it to protect any dirt and dust from sticking to their pants. He had a plate of stew on his lap as well as everyone else who came for dinner. Most of the gang were either gathered around the campfire to eat or at the table nearby. 

John moved the food around with his spoon, playing with it as he felt his stomach churn when he thought of Arthur. 

_Did he forget about me?_

John let out a frustrated sigh as he stabbed a bean with his spoon, splitting it in half. 

“Something  bothering you, son?” Hosea asked softly after hearing the sigh,  looking at John with a worried expression.  He sat next to the younger man and recognize the sulky mood he was in. 

John’s snapped his head up  when Hosea spoke to him. “I-yeah. I mean no. Nothing is bothering me. I’m fine.” He replied quickly, looking at Hosea with a small frown on his face. He both hated and loved how much the man cared about his wellbeing. 

“You barely touched your food,  John.”

“I’m eating it !  Just listenin’ to...whatever they’re saying.” John’s words were rushed and he  waved his spoon at the direction of Mac and Davey as he spoke. The brothers were  telling a story about a robbery they’ve done a while back. Uncle, Dutch, Strauss, and young Mary-Beth sat around the fire as well, listening to the brother’s stories as they ate their stew.

"If you say so," 

Once everyone stuffed their bellies, they all went to their tents  and called it a night -  except John. He stayed for a little while longer and lingered near the entrance of the camp in hopes of seeing Arthur soon. He wasn’t even sure why he was waiting for the older man anymore.  They  weren’t  going to scout the house until tomorrow  anyway  now that it’s near midnight.

john stayed until his eyelids felt heavy, not to mention that he was yawning every five minutes. Hefinally realized how sad he looked waiting around for someone who probably won’t be back until tomorrow, so John began walking towards his tent. He was changing out of the clothes he had on all day and into his comfy red union suit. 

“Who goes there?” 

John heard  whoever was on guard duty yelling and instantly knew it was Arthur. It had to be. He  watched with tired eyes from where he  stood  in his tent. The sounds of heavy hooves  that  approached  camp made John walk out  in his bare feet, not caring that the dirt beneath him was cold or that his feet were now dirty. He needed to see Arthur.  To tell Arthur how much of an asshole he was to have kept him waiting.

John’s eyes spotted Arthur on his mare, but something looked different about the man. His hat wasn’t on, his clothes looked disheveled, smeared with blood and dirt. He couldn’t see his expression quite well from how dark it was. The lantern barely illuminating where the horses were kept.

Arthur slid off his horse, eyes red and dark instead of the usual bright blue eyes John knew and loved.

“Arthur?” John stood near the man, his voice  was  quiet and unsure when he spoke his name. Arthur’s shoulders  seemed stiff and  his hands were shaking.  John could hear the man’s breath coming out short and rapid. Arthur stood still, staring at the ground with an unreadable expression. 

John looked  at him cautiously, waiting for the man to say something.

“They killed them.”

John wasn’t sure he heard right. It took him a second to register what the man meant before he Immediately pulled Arthur into a tight hug. He felt Arthur press his wet face against his neck, strong arms going around John’s thin waist to hold him tight as he could while he trembled violently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts!


	2. Chapter 2

After the loss of Eliza and Isaac, the gang barely saw Arthur around camp anymore, he was constantly out, avoiding everyone and everything. John knew the older outlaw was going through a tough time, so no one bothered him a lot, letting him deal with it alone since he wouldn’t let alone come close.

At the rare occasion of the man being present, he would have a bottle of whiskey in his hand, stumbling around camp in his drunken state, singing horribly. 

“-but that cowardly killer...that shot Mr. Miller…” 

That became a regular thing for a long while. John’s heart broke right down the middle seeing Arthur like that, but he understood that Arthur was mourning, so John let him be. He couldn’t even approach the man; afraid he might get yelled by him. No one knew what Arthur did when he was out, but hunting was definitely one of the things he’s been up to since he showed up once or twice a week with deer, rabbits and turkeys stowed on his horse. He would stay in camp for a day to clean up and change his clothes before he’d leave again for days. The ladies began to notice Arthur’s clothes having more blood in them whenever the time came to do the laundry. More blood but less animal carcasses being brought for Pearson. Dutch and Hosea began worrying about the man and what he’s been doing out most of the time when he isn’t hunting. The one who worried the most out of everyone was John. 

John watched Dutch try one of his speeches on Arthur after a month or two of letting the man grieve, thinking his charisma would help lift the man’s spirit. But Arthur remained cold and distant. The blond man didn’t look like he was listening to Dutch’s words, too busy cleaning his guns so he could ride out as soon as possible. John noticed Arthur was constantly overworking and avoiding conversation with everyone, including John. 

John quietly watched the interaction between the two men. He pretended to be busy with sharpening his arrows even though all of his focus was on the mostly one-sided conversation.

“People seldom see the halting and painful steps by which the most-”

“I’m headin’ out now, Dutch.” Arthur interrupted gruffly as he stood up, grabbing his rifle and a rare shotgun that John had no idea where he got from. John just remembered seeing the man coming into camp all bloody with a cool looking shotgun he’d never seen in stores before.

Dutch was taken by surprise when he got interrupted.

“Y-you’re barely around camp anymore, brother.” Dutch remarked, his eyebrows furrowing as he went after Arthur to his horse. Persistent as always. “I also noticed you haven’t been donating to the pot as much.” Dutch pressed on, silently demanding answers. “We need you and we’re here for you.”

John heard Arthur bark out a bitter, dry laugh that made the boy flinch. 

“So the food I’m bringin’ in ain’t enough? The money I get ya’ from jobs ain’t enough?” Arthur growled, turning to face Dutch, standing close enough to tower over the man. Dutch stood his ground and stared back into Arthur’s eyes.

“That’s not what I meant, Arthur!”

“Why don’t you get that piece of shit-'' Arthur pointed at Uncle who was snoring away against a tree. “-to get up and do work around here before I make him. Don’t tell me I ain’t doin’ nothin’! I’ve had it up till here with all o’ you.” Arthur snarled, his deep and threatening voice sending shivers down John’s spine. John’s heart almost jumped out of his chest when he locked eyes with Arthur for a split second. The younger saw something shift in his gaze but before he could figure out what it was, the man swiftly turned and headed for his horse. Arthur mounted the mare and left in a hurry, leaving behind a stunned Dutch.

John swallowed thickly at Arthur’s hurtful words, he had no doubt Dutch felt the same. John has never seen Arthur act like that. The drastic change of his behavior was overwhelming. the younger man cared immensely about Arthur. More than what was considered normal in regards of two men being best friends or brothers in arms. Arthur was more than that in John’s eyes and he knew it wasn’t right to feel that way towards a man. Although it hurt John deeply, he buried those queer feelings somewhere he prayed wouldn’t resurface again. He did choose to be happy for Arthur when he had Eliza and Isaac until they were violently snatched away from the man by bandits, killing a part of him as well; the caring part, the huge teddy bear he used to be despite his scary and burly appearance. 

John stared at the ground, wondering whether Arthur meant what he said or not. Was the man really sick of the gang? Of him? John took in a shaky breath, feeling Dutch’s eyes on him. He hoped the man would leave him alone.

“John.” 

John sighed and looked up at Dutch, nodding hello. The two stared at each other for a moment before John broke the silence.

“Are we losing him, Dutch?”

Dutch exhaled, averting his eyes elsewhere when he saw the pain and fear in John’s eyes. “Now don’t say such ludicrous things like that. It will pass. Time heals all wounds, son. You see…Grief…It’s something everyone will go through inevitably. He’ll come around soon. Look at me, I pushed forward even after I lost my dear Annabelle. It hurt me deeply, but I knew this gang needed me as much as I needed you and everyone else.” Dutch’s voice was heavily laced with pain and sadness. The man let out a deep sigh before walking away to where his phonograph was to put on his ear splitting music.

-

_ July, 1891 _

“Can you believe it? It feels as if it was yesterday that Hosea and I cut you down from that tree. Seven years! That’s how long our boy- no, our young man has been riding with us. Eighteen years old today and all grown and as healthy as a horse!”

“I don’t know ‘bout that, Dutch. Kid seems much more on the skinnier side.” Davey joked with a chuckle, shooting John a wink. “Although his ass does fill out them jea- ouch!” Davey yelped when something pointy painfully poked his side.

John sharply dug his elbow right into Davey’s ribs before the man could finish his sentence. “Talk to me like that again and I’ll do much more than a jab in the ribs!”

Dutch laughed, taking it as nothing but silliness. “Now, now, stop teasing him, Davey…What’s important is that he’s alive and well. John, you did so well with helping this gang and I want to show you how much I-” Dutch paused before gesturing at everyone who sat around the campfire. “ _ we _ appreciate and love you. So, I’m taking everyone to Armadillo to celebrate John’s eighteenth birthday! My treat! Beer, whiskey, whores, whatever you want, I got It covered!” The gang cheered, giving John a few claps on the back and wishing him a happy birthday - except for Arthur and Mac who were assigned to go check out a potential job that might bring them a bunch of money from rich people as always.

Despite all the birthday wishes and the positive attention John got, the young man felt empty and blue that Arthur wasn’t around. John never really cared about birthdays -  _ his _ birthday especially, but he always loved how Arthur always remembered and made sure everyone else did as well, celebrating by simply spending time with John, taking him into town to pick out whatever he wanted. Now, he barely saw or spoke to the older man. 

Later that night, the ladies sat in the wagon which was being driven by Miss Grimshaw with John sitting next to her, while the rest of the men were on horseback, following the wagon to Armadillo. John didn’t mind diving instead of riding his horse. He was going to have his first proper drink and he was planning on getting shit-faced, so he didn’t have to worry about riding home later. He wasn’t going to necessarily be his actual first drink since Arthur used to occasionally let him take sips from his bottle whenever John begged his heart out to just taste it. Speaking of Arthur, he and Mac managed to come back to camp at the last second and were ordered from Dutch and Hosea to come along, so they did.

“Does that mean Little John ain’t so little no more?” Mac asked over the loud sound of the wagon wheel rolling and the thud of horse hooves hitting the dirt path.

“I dunno, still looks little to me.” Arthur replied in a teasing tone.

“I’m ignoring you!” John yelled from the wagon.

Several minutes later, the wagon finally slowed down as they arrived in Armadillo. The gang hitched up the wagon and their horses.

“We will be at the saloon, ladies! Join us if you want.” Dutch put an arm around John’s shoulders and led him to the busy saloon, followed by the rest of the boys. John’s heart raced with excitement when they entered, hearing chatter over the loud piano music, and seeing men already drunk and stumbling around the place.

“Bartender, would you be so kind as to serve all of us shots of your finest whiskey to celebrate this young man’s birthday!” Dutch waved a hand at the bartender before letting John lean against the bar. 

“Comin’ right up!”

An hour and much, much more shot glasses later, the men were completely blackout drunk. Mac and Uncle were harassing the piano player, horribly singing folk songs and forcing him to play each song they wanted to sing at gunpoint. Bill was desperately trying to flirt with two whores who entertained themselves watching the drunk man try his best to impress them with his slurred speech. Hosea, Dutch, and Davey were playing poker in the backroom. God knows how much they’re spending playing drunk like that. Arthur was near the wall, on the floor nursing his probably twentieth beer bottle, looking miserable as he sang along to whatever song Mac and Uncle were making the poor piano feller play.

John didn’t remember what he did, just snippets of himself stumbling around, ordering more shots, and fighting a stranger or two. At some point, he felt a soft hand on his arm before he was tugged upstairs.

“Let’s go have some fun now, darlin’.” John realized it was Anastasia, the whore Dutch introduced to him earlier, telling him she’ll be helping him turn into a real man or something of that sort. and had no choice but to let himself be pulled towards the room Dutch had rented for them specifically. John gave a final glance at the ground floor, searching for Arthur to silently ask for help, but the man was already out the door, disappearing into the damn night.

Once the door was shut, the woman walked over to the bed, hips swaying and she pushed John down on the creaky bed first. She eyed the birthday boy and gave him a flirtatious smirk. “Come on, don’t be shy. Is this your first time?” she asked, accent as clear as day.

The air left John’s lungs when his back hit the uncomfortable mattress and he looked up at the whore, bewilderment and slight fear portrayed his features. He swallowed thickly and propped himself up on his elbows. “L-lady…I ain’t- I don’t think I- I ain’t ever been with a woman b’fore.” He slurred, plopping back down bed when his weight felt heavy.

“It’s alright, Hun. I’ll teach ya’.” She said, southern accent all breathy and soft before she went to sit on top of John who immediately pushed her off. Fortunately, she landed next to him on the mattress instead of the floor. She did however let out a yelp of surprise.

“Hey! What is wrong with you?!” She scoffed, sitting up and glaring down at the drunk.

“I’m s-sorry…” John stuttered nervously, eyeing the girl cautiously in case she tried touching him again.

“What? You don’t want me, mister?” She looked offended and put a hand on her hip.

“No- well, I don’t know you! You ain’t Arthur! I don’t love you; I love Arthur! Not you! I ain’t mean any disrespect.” John admitted with a loud whine, all drunk and confused to realize what he said. He threw an arm over his eyes in attempt to escape the situation.

Anastasia paused for a second before realization hit her and she took a deep breath. “Oh…I see. You swing the other way then?” She asked softly to John’s surprise.

The drunk cowboy moved his arm from his face to look at her with foggy eyes. She had this weird, sad expression on her felt, as if she felt for him. Felt what though? John didn’t know, but he knew she wasn’t grossed out.

“Yeah…I l-like- I like men.” John confessed for the first time. He’d never said that out loud but damn did he feel good saying it. “I can’t have sex with you.” He mumbled sadly, rubbing his face with his hands.

Anastasia lied down next to him and let out a sigh. “I understand.” She turned her face to look at John who looked at her like he didn’t believe her. “You ain’t the first queer I met. I had let dozens of men have their way with me while they moaned for Cleat or Joe.”

A surprised and sharp laugh came out of John’s mouth.

“Really?”

“Mhm! They often like it when I’m layin’ down on my stomach too.” She said with a soft chuckle. “Let me guess, this Arthur…was he that tall and handsome one with the sad blue eyes?”

John nodded. “Mhm…that’s the one.” He sighed and turned to his side to face her.

The rest of the night was spent with them talking about John’s feelings and what made Anastasia work as a whore. John has never talked this much in his life, confessing his feelings to a whore nonetheless. Though John had never felt so good to admit everything. He knew he would’ve never done or said any of that if it weren’t for him being so drunk. The whore even suggested that John could pretend she was Arthur while she blew him, but he kindly declined her offer.

When the sun was up, John had already sobered up just a little but he still felt like absolute shit and was blushing madly, slightly ashamed to have admitted his secrets to a stranger – to a whore. He stood up, stomach feeling funny and he forcefully swallowed down the bile the tried to choke him. He tossed whatever coins he had left to the whore for being so kind and understanding. He told her to lie about them having had sex if Dutch ever asks. After that, John walked out of the dimly lit room which he regretted immediately.

“Shit!” John groaned and squinted, trying to save his eyes from the sunlight that shone through the windows. He managed to drag himself down the stairs without falling. His head felt like it was about to burst and his legs were a chore to move. He really needed to sleep this off. His mouth also felt dry from talking all night and his stomach felt queasy again. He moaned pathetically and leaned against the wall.

“Fine mornin’, partner. Had a fun night?” The bartender asked with a chuckle as he wiped down the bar. There was another man in the saloon who had a mop in his hands, shining the floor. The saloon looked so different in the morning. Empty, quiet, and so clean that it made it look like the events of yesterday never even happened.

John sighed in response and checked his pockets to see if he had extra cents to order water. He groaned when he felt nothing but dust.

“Thanks, mister.” John responded tiredly as he walked out of the place. The merciless sun instantly blinded him for a second and his stomach gurgled before feeling liquid rushing up his throat. He hurried towards the porch railings and leaned over it before emptying his stomach of everything he consumed yesterday. He retched until he couldn’t anymore, coughing violently and dry heaving. He breathed heavily once his stomach calmed down.

“Jesus…all that from one shot of whiskey?”

John quickly spun around at the familiar gravelly voice. His sudden movement caused him to stumble from dizziness. 

“Woah, easy there. Don’t wanna take you back with a concussion.” Arthur said, voice deep and tired as if he’d woken up minutes ago. He moved off from where he sat on the ground with a low grunt, grabbing John’s arms to steady him before he could fall over.

“Arthur? Why’re you here?” John asked groggily before yawning, hands going up to tiredly rub at his eyes. He unconsciously leaned against Arthur’s strong frame. “I thought- I saw you leavin’ yesterday.” He mumbled and blinked a couple of times to get used to the brightness of the sun. “Where’d everyone go?”

“They left.” Arthur ignored the first question as he moved away from John once he made sure the younger could stand straight on his own.

John almost tugged the man back to be in his warm arms again, already missing his caring touch.

“What’dya mean they left? I don’t have my horse! Dutch just- how am I supposed to get home?” John cried with a frown before looking at Arthur up and down for the first time, just now noticing he looked a mess. The man’s clothes were dirty and messy as if he’d been in a fight, like he slept right outside the saloon. Not that John looked any better.

“Guess you’re lucky I’m here then. Savin’ your ass as always. Did’ya have fun last night?” Arthur asked emptily as he went down the short steps to his hitched mare. There was something off about the man’s tone but John couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Fun? I-I guess. I barely remember anything.” Except the deep conversation he had with Anastasia, but he won’t mention that. “My head hurts and I feel like I’m about to die.” John huffed, following Arthur.

“That’s liquor for ya’.”

Soon enough, the two were on their way back to camp. Arthur was riding Bo’ while John sat behind him, arms wrapped loosely around the older man’s waist to prevent himself from falling. He felt as if he was about to fall asleep at any second now. He was leaning heavily against Arthur’s back, letting out agitated groans every so often, just whenever his brain pulsed. It was the perfect excuse to be this close to Arthur since the man barely let anyone touch him or be all up in his personal space like that. John inhaled Arthur’s scent deeply, pressing his nose into the man’s shoulder.

“Don’t wipe your snot-filled nose on me.” Arthur grumbled without any real annoyance behind his voice. He didn’t move to shove the young outlaw off him.

John was glad Arthur couldn’t see the blush on his cheeks. “what- sh-shut up! There’s horse shit on ya’ and you’re worrying about snot?” John argued, moving his face to the side so that his cheek was now resting on Arthur’s back. The man only responded with a low chuckle and John bit his bottom lip at the sound. He wasn’t even going to ask what happened for him to look like shit, he doubted the man would remember last night from how many drinks they’ve had. Or maybe John just didn’t want to know.

Several minutes later, they arrived near camp and they could see the wagon was there and a few horses, confirming that at least the ladies were back in camp as well as a few of the other guys.

“Slow down, girl.” Arthur cooed gently and stopped the horse just outside the hideout. The man was always so soft to his horse, speaking to her as if she was the most precious thing in the world. John knew it was ridiculous, but he actually envied Boadicea. He wanted to be spoken to and coddled by Arthur like that, though he knew that’d never happen.

“Alright, go on in then.” Arthur turned his head to look at John, waiting for him to get off the horse.

John looked at him confused. “You ain’t comin’?”

“No. I’m headin’ out.” Arthur stated and gestured his hand at John then the ground, silently telling him to go.

“Headin’ out? But we just arrived!” John spoke loudly as if that will make Arthur change his mind.

“John.” Arthur growled, growing impatient.

“Can I come with you? I’ll go get Old Boy-”

“No, John. You wanna ride out? You ride out alone or stay in camp. I don’t care but you ain’t ridin’ with me. Get off my horse.” Arthur's voice sounded low and dangerous which made John hop off the mare instantly. Before Arthur could leave again, John grabbed at where the man’s ankle was under his leather boot, stopping him for leaving.

“Why, Arthur?” Sadness painted John’s face as he looked at him with big puppy eyes. He watched as the older man took in a deep sigh, his blue eyes softening after realizing he was being quite harsh.

“I don’t have time for this, John.” Arthur muttered. “There’s nothin’ for me to do at camp right now. I have some items I need to sell for Dutch. I’ll be back later.” Arthur added, his tone was calm this time.

John reluctantly released the man’s foot from his grasp. “Okay…’m sorry.” He mumbled and scratched his neck, wishing he could say more but he had a feeling Arthur would get angry at him. He turned to leave and heard Arthur’s horse gallop away from camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know your thoughts!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, my writing is bad but I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I hope you enjoy reading it !

_ 1892 _

John found himself missing Arthur more than he ever did in his life. It was as if the lack of Arthur’s presence and his coldness clawed their way into the deepest and farthest place in John’s heart before exposing the part he desperately tried to hide for years, his forbidden feelings towards the man. The man who has now taken over John’s thoughts and dreams every damn night. It was one thing to have Arthur around everyday, talking and cracking jokes while John suppressed his feelings before the incident, but now, for Arthur to emotionally close off and stay silent was excruciating.

John was happy to know Arthur was at camp today and he wanted nothing more but to spend time with him. So as soon as the younger man had his breakfast, he walked over to Arthur’s tent and stepped inside. He immediately spotted Arthur on his cot, his journal in one hand, a pencil in the other as he sketched. Arthur sat half laying down and half sitting up. He had one leg bent up while the other was stretched out in front of him, foot dangling from the end of the cot as the damn thing was too short for the man's legs.

“Good morning, Arthur,” John greeted him softly as he sat on the foot of the cot, the side where Arthur’s bent leg wasn’t taking up space.

Arthur’s eyes moved up from his journal and at John in surprise, like he didn’t expect anyone to bother him at this hour. “Mornin’, Marston.” He replied in his gravelly and hoarse voice that always made John’s stomach tickle. Arthur went back to sketching.

John refrained himself from asking the older outlaw about his absence, both mentally and physically, but he had a feeling Arthur wouldn’t appreciate getting berated in his tent by John.

“What’re you drawin’?” John asked instead, pulling his knees up to his chest, trying to get comfortable in the small space. He felt Arthur’s leg behind him pressing against his lower back.

“I’m writin’. Met a strange feller couple o’ days ago. Thought I’d write about him.” Arthur answered with a shrug to john’s surprise. The younger expected a one-word answer, but this was better. He  _ wanted _ Arthur to talk to him.

“What kind of feller?”

Arthur looked up again from his journal and gave John's faint smirk that was gone the second he saw it before the man went back to writing. “Like I said, a strange kind of feller. Was up north, passin’ through a cabin when I heard shouting comin’ from nearby.”

North? No wonder why he came back after a week.

“I went to investigate and found a poor bastard right under a bear. I had my shotgun with me, so I shot the damn thing right between the eyes. Was also gonna shoot the poor bastard but…he gave me a reason not to. Offered to give me some ‘legendary’ pelt if I spared him. I said sure, why not? since those things apparently cost a mint. The damn bastard actually made me hunt with him. Found out he used to be a veteran.” Arthur let out a snort at the memory.

John didn’t question why Arthur wanted to kill the man in the first place if he wasn’t threatened. “You went huntin’ with a stranger?” John asked with a small smile. “That’s so not like you.” He giggled when he felt Arthur’s leg purposefully nudge his lower back.

“You sayin’ I can’t get along with people, Marston?” Arthur asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I never said that.” John defended, gently punching Arthur’s leg. “Just…How come you ain’t hunting with me no more?” He asked, voice quiet in tone while looking at Arthur’s face. he bit his bottom lip anxiously and absentmindedly played with the red handkerchief that hid the rope scar around his neck.

The older man’s eyes fell to his journal, staring at the written words for a moment before giving John a shrug. “Been busy.” He muttered before resuming his writing.

John silently cursed at himself for asking that question, ruining the normal conversation they were having, making Arthur shut back off. He was actually surprised he wasn’t kicked out yet. Usually, whenever he saw other gang members trying to talk to Arthur, the man would immediately turn them away.

He decided he did not need to talk. He enjoyed just being with Arthur and watching him write or sketch. John would carefully watch how Arthur’s eyebrows would furrow slightly as he thought of words, or sketched something small. He also noticed when Arthur would bite his lip whenever he concentrated. It made john’s heart flutter at how handsome the man was when he looked calm and focused.

The two spent the rest of the hour in silence, the only sound that could be heard was the sound of pencil on paper and their soft breathing. Both seemed to enjoy each other’s company. John hoped that was the case for Arthur at least.

John wanted to tell Arthur that he missed him; he missed hanging out with him like this, so he opened his mouth to speak.

“Arthur!” Dutch’s voice suddenly interrupted their peace. John looked up, startled, and saw him walking towards the tent with an excited look on his face.

Arthur sat up straight and closed his journal as if he knew what Dutch was about to ask from him.

“My boy, Arthur, I need you and John for a small job.”

John’s eyebrows shot up at the mention of his name. Dutch rarely included John on jobs. Plus, he knew Arthur preferred doing small jobs on his own nowadays. He heard Arthur sigh and John prepared himself to hear the man tell Dutch that he didn’t need John to tag along.

“What is it?” The taller man asked, already picking up his favorite repeater before Dutch put a hand on Arthur’s arm to stop him.

“It’s a simple home robbery. Remember the one near strawberry? You two never got to rob that house. Now, there’s no need to bring your big guns since the place shouldn’t be guarded.” Dutch explained. “We need the extra money for restocking supplies. Medicine, ammo, food…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Arthur grumbled as he returned the repeater to his gun chest. “I heard someone mentioning treasure bein’ kept in that place. We’ll check it out while the sun’s still up.” He said roughly and gestured for john to follow him before walking out the tent without another word.

“Later, Dutch.” John said before hurrying after Arthur who was already by his horse. John tried his best to hide his excited smile.  _ He was going to rob a house with Arthur. _ Not just scout the area, but to actually  _ rob _ a place. He could finally feel useful in this gang.

“Hold up.” Arthur stopped by putting a firm hand on John's chest before the younger could mount his horse. “It’ll take us a day to get there. Go get whatever you need before we head out.” Arthur instructed and pushed the young man towards the direction of his tent.

“O-okay.”

Once John had everything he needed; extra clothes, a few cans of peaches, and beans, the two finally rode out of camp. He didn’t ask if Arthur prepared for the journey because he knew the man had everything on his horse, seeing how he already leaves camp for several days for reasons John didn't know of.

“Uhm...” John cleared this throat, wanting to get Arthur’s attention and also his throat suddenly felt dry. “Do we have a plan for this? We never really went to check the place out beforehand.” John worried something would go wrong. He did not want to mess up this robbery for Arthur despite being confident in his skills. In both their skills.

Arthur’s eyes didn’t move from the road when John spoke, the younger almost thought the man wasn’t listening to him.

“You just stick with me and do as I say. Plan or no plan, it’s nothin’ but a simple house robbery. If something goes wrong, we kill or get killed.” Arthur’s voice was stern and gravelly, sending tingles down from John’s spine and to his crotch. John silently cursed his body for reacting like that just by hearing Arthur talk.

“Yessir,” John muttered quietly and let his horse match the pace of Arthurs’ own, hoping his boner would go away before the other man noticed it. John knew it was impossible when he glanced at Arthur. The man had a cigarette between his lips, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing more of the shiny-with-sweat skin. His jaw muscles flexed as he inhaled the smoke, and John’s breath hitched, his mouth watering involuntarily.

Arthur turned his head towards the younger, no doubt feeling like he was being stared at. John quickly looked away and swallowed thickly, droplets of sweat rolling down his face. Definitely from the heat of the sun.

“’s wrong with you, boy?” Arthur spoke in a slow and deep voice, the tingles in John’s tummy intensifying and his cock twitched. He swore the hot weather was making him act up. He slightly panicked and tried thinking of an excuse on the spot before they heard a yell from deep into the forest to their left.

“Help! Sweet mother of Jesus, help me! Someone, please, help me! Oh, god, please!”

Arthur and John both quickly pulled the reins to halt their horses at the scream. They looked at each other with skeptical and unsure expressions.

“I’m trapped! Help me! My leg! Oh, dear God, my leg!”

“Stay here.” Arthur ordered firmly, breaking the eye contact to dismount his horse, unholstering his pistol and heading into the forest before John could protest. The man tossed his cigarette away as he went into the forest. John sighed heavily but stayed alert, ready to jump off his horse if Arthur needed any help. He knew some people ambushed others to get their hands on whatever amount of cash they could, so he tried to keep his eye on the man as he walked further into the woods, between the trees and bushes but still somewhat visible.

“Please, get this thing off me! I can’t feel my leg! Quick!” The man continued to cry out in pain.

John heard Arthur letting out a cold, unsettling chuckle when he stopped and looked down at the man in pain. John couldn’t see him since the bushes blocked where he was on the ground.

“Christ…now that’s a sad sight if I’ve ever seen one. What’re you huntin’? Yourself?”

John sighed in relief when it a was man who actually needed help.

The man growled, “Ain’t no time for jokes, you bastard! Get this beartrap off my leg!” He cried out and choked back a whimper.

John watched Arthur holster his gun and stood there for a few seconds, like he was thinking about something. He then crouched down to help the man. John winced at the image of the man’s leg being stuck in a bear trap. It must be painful as hell. He then heard the sound of metal grinding against metal, assuming Arthur was prying the thing open. The screams of the man got louder, encouraging Arthur to pull harder.

“C-come on! It’s getting looser! Don’t let it snap shut! Oh, God!” The man groaned, “Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Pull harder! Harder!”

John sucked in his lips as he blushed, hoping no one would pass by thinking John was eavesdropping on people having sex. He couldn’t lie, it really did sound like it from an outsider’s point of view.

He suddenly heard a loud striking sound of metal and saw Arthur stumbling back, expressionless but his eyes were trained on the bleeding man.

“Ow! Oh, Jesus Christ! M-my leg! Jesus…Oh, Jesus…y-you…” The man’s cries slowly faded to silence before John heard a thump like his body just collapsed. John frowned, watching curiously as Arthur made his way back to his horse, the same weird expression on his face.

“Hey, girl…” Arthur cooed to his horse and stroked her neck before climbing onto the saddle.

“I- What- Arthur, what happened?!” John sputtered; confusion written all over his face when Arthur acted so casual, as if nothing just happened.

“Idiot’s leg was trapped in a bear trap.” Arthur explained, lighting up another smoke. “Tried helpin’ him but my hand slipped.” He added in a monotone voice. “I think he’s dead.”

John’s eyes widened slightly, not understanding how Arthur wasn’t showing any emotion to what just happened. John nodded slowly, believing Arthur. “Poor fella…” he muttered, before shuddering. “Can’t even imagine the pain of havin’ your leg stuck in something like that.”

“With that empty head of yours, you might one day.” Arthur joked and squeezed his horse with his calves before she began trotting forward.

John huffed and shook his head, letting his horse follow the other, dick completely soft now. They spent a few hours riding without getting interrupted. John had tried to strike up a conversation with the older man, but he got from him was a hum or a one-word answer. He gave up eventually and ignored the painful strain he felt in his heart.

-

By the time the two were close to the homestead, the sun had gone down and the only thing that lit up the dirt road was the moon and the occasional riders who passed by with lanterns in their hands. They arrived quicker than they thought they would since they rode without stopping except once to rest their horses and eat lunch.

“Let’s hitch up and go on foot from here.” John suggested, nodding towards the forest on the back side of where the homestead was. Their horses trotted slowly inside the forest until they were safely out of anyone’s sight before they dismounted.

“They might have a dog or two outside the house. I’m gonna check the outside the best I could before we go in. A family of four owns this place, I reckon. We can only hope for them to be in town today, but if they ain’t, then we wait till they’re asleep and we stay real quiet. We find what we need then leave. Understood?” Arthur stood close to John as he quietly explained the plan he just came up with, looking right into John’s brown eyes to make sure the younger was listening. John almost got lost in Arthur’s pretty eyes, but he managed not to since he did not want to mess anything up all because he was being a fool.

“Yeah, okay.” John nodded quickly before pulling his bandana up to his nose with Arthur doing the same. The two expertly made their way closer to the homestead without any sound, going to the side of it to get a better view. They crouched when they were close enough to the fence and Arthur pulled out his binoculars to check around the house.

“Yup…two dogs, one on the porch and the other is down by the stairs.” Arthur said in a low hushed tone as he checked the rest of the outside area for people.

“The hell?” Arthur muttered, “There’s someone standin’ near the barn. I see a rifle on him. Must be their guard.”

“Look, there’s a room with the lights on.” John pointed out and snatched the binoculars from Arthur to get a closer look.

“What’re you doin’?”

“I’m tryna see If I could spot someone in the house from here.” John stressed, aiming at the little window, looking for any silhouette that resembled a human being.

“There!”

“Shh!”

“Shit, sorry.” John grimaced and hoped and dogs didn’t hear him. After a few seconds of silence, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding begore he turned to Arthur. “I saw someone. Just one guy in that room. I ain’t sure about the rest though…They could either be asleep or out.” He whispered, looking away when Arthur’s gaze became too intense and mesmerizing.

Arthur nodded and glanced back at the house. “It’s better to sneak in from the back to avoid the dogs, or find an open window.” Arthur hummed before taking back the binoculars and shoving them into his satchel. All they had to do now is wait for the person to go to bed. Arthur kept checking his pocket watch, the one John really liked because of its intricate design and detailed engravings all around it.

They sat quietly for at least an hour before the lights in that one room were finally off.

“Shit…I ain’t too comfortable sneakin’ around with them dogs bein’ too close.” Arthur rasped, “I got a few jerkies on me. I’ll toss’em somewhere not too far so they could smell so it distracts ‘em for a bit. At least ‘til we’re inside.”

Once it was safe and the dogs were far from the house, Arthur managed to successfully pick the lock of the backdoor and they were inside without alerting anyone. They decided to split up to quicken the process of finding any valuables they could while staying as quiet as mice. John did manage to find a few bills folds and coins hidden under the fireplace as well as an expensive looking pen.

“We need to search the bedrooms.” John almost jumped when he heard Arthur’s voice from right behind him. He spun to look at the man with wide eyes.

“You insane? They’re sleepin’ in there!” John hissed, his heart racing at the thought of trying to sneak quietly around a room while someone’s sleeping too damn close for John’s comfort.

“We need to find the jewelry, and I know they got a wad of cash somewhere in there.” Arthur spoke quietly before pointing a hand at John, then one of the bedroom doors, the right one, signaling him to go.

John swallowed nervously before taking a deep breath to calm down. He wasn't supposed to feel nervous. He had to get used to this since he knew he’ll be doing more shit like this in the future and this wasn't his first time stealing, goddammit! He nodded at Arthur after composing himself and slowly made his way to the right bedroom door while Arthur took the left door.

John swore he could hear his heart from how fast it was beating as he turned the doorknob as quietly as he could. Once he heard the faint click, he opened the door and stepped inside while crouching. His eyes immediately searched for the bed and he paused in surprise when he didn’t see anyone on it. He tilted his head slightly, confused before looking around the room and from the looks of it, it was the parent’s bedroom. They must be in town then, and Arthur was in the room where the person John saw was sleeping in. It’s Arthur’s problem now.

John quickly searched the room; finding a nice watch, a large jewelry bag, a gold brooch with a nice gem in the middle of it, gold earrings, and a few more fancy valuables that could definitely bring them lots of money for now and placed all of the items in the bag. His head snapped up when he heard a loud gasp from the other room then fast footsteps. John froze when he heard struggling noises and a muffled moan. Just as he was about to rush out and check what was happening, the house fell silent as if nothing happened. Too silent. John felt like he was about to throw up at the thought of Arthur being hurt, or worse, killed. He hurried out of the room and gasped when he collided with a solid surface, causing him to almost fall on his ass. Before that could happen, he felt a strong arm wrap around his waist to steady him.

“Easy, boy.” Arthur hummed huskily, looking down at the puzzled John.

John didn’t realize his hand was on his gun handle, ready to pull it out and shoot until his brain registered it was Arthur. He looked up, hand subconsciously resting on Arthur’s sturdy chest, eyes inspecting every inch of the man’s face in the dark for any sign of injury. The younger let out a sigh of relief when Arthur looked fine, though his bandana wasn’t on. Their eyes locked and John couldn’t stop staring up into the taller man’s eyes, feeling paralyzed for a moment at how close they stood together. The only thing that snapped the men out of their trance was a soft sound of something dripping on the floorboards. 

“Uh, what was- did something happen? What happened?” John asked shakily, anxiety written all over his face. He felt Arthur’s arm slipping off his waist and he almost whimpered at the loss. Almost.

Arthur took in a deep breath before releasing it heavily, looking down at his knife as he cleaned whatever was on it with a piece of cloth that looked like his bandana.

John’s eyes widened, darting between the knife and Arthur’s face, then the tiny puddle of dark liquid on the floor next to his boot. blood.

“The damn kid woke up and I simply put him back to sleep. Don’t look at me like that.” Arthur responded gruffly, sheathing his knife.

“Was anyone else in there?” John asked in a loud, panicked whisper.

“No, and assuming by the way you ran out that room, there wasn't anyone else in that room either. You found everything we need?” Arthur asked in an odd tone, grabbing John's bag to check the items he stole, too calm for John’s liking. The younger watched the older man dig through the valuables with an amused look. After a moment, John spoke up again.

“Did you kill him?” John finally asked with a tremble in his voice, his stomach churning at the thought of a dead, _innocent_ guy, probably around John’s age if not younger, being dead in the next room. He watched the amused expression on Arthur’s face quickly disappear at the question.

“’Course I did. He had a gun under his pillow and was ready to use it.”

John only stared at Arthur’s boots and slowly and took the bag back from the older man. He wasn’t sure how he felt about what the man just did, but it was self-defense, right?

“Hey,” Arthur put a finger under John’s smooth chin and made him look up. “It was either him or me.”

John thanked the lord, which he didn’t believe in, that the darkness hid the tears that burned his eyes. He could’ve lost Arthur just then if the man didn’t notice the person waking up, or maybe it was the gasp that made Arthur act quick. Whichever it was, he was glad Arthur wasn’t hurt.

John nodded slowly, moving his face away from Arthur’s thick finger before turning around to head to the backdoor, wanting to get out of that house as soon as possible. John did not want the guard to notice something was wrong, and he knew he’d get queasy if he stayed in there for a second longer.

After the two men secured the two full bags of valuables on their horses, they mounted up, happily ready to leave that place.

“You okay, Johnny?” Arthur’s low and throaty voice snapped John out of his thoughts. His heart almost leapt out of his chest at the question. The man’s face had nothing but concern written all over it. It felt like it was forever ago since John last saw that expression on Arthur. The man always was cold towards everyone ever since the tragic incident.

“Yeah…” John whispered and watched Arthur’s soft expression turn back into that cold, unreadable one that everyone got used to.

-

The two outlaws decided to set camp somewhere near the Upper Montana River to rest up after riding for too long, both their stomachs were grumbling and their eyes could barely stay open after the adrenaline left their system.

It was a nice spot they picked; hidden among trees and surrounded by the calm atmosphere. The sound of ducks quacking and frogs croaking down by the river, the faint caws of crows in the distance, probably feeding on a dead animal, and the soft breeze causing goosebumps to creep on John’s skin. John quickly started with gathering wood to start a small fire to keep them cozy for the rest of the night while Arthur worked on the tents. John couldn’t wait to put something warm in his stomach. Maybe he could hunt a rabbit or a duck for them to eat.

Once the fire was lit, John smiled proudly and turned to inform Arthur about hunting something to eat. Just before he could say anything, the sky suddenly flashed a blinding white color before a loud, booming crack echoed deeply from the heavens, causing tremors to shoot right through John’s body and the earth beneath him shook from the shockwaves. The horses whinnied in fear and stayed close to one another.

“Great. Shit…Come on, get in here ‘less you want to get soaked in the rain!” Arthur shouted, his strong hand suddenly gripped john’s arm and pulled him into his tent before the rain started pouring heavily. Arthur had only managed to set up one tent before the lightning struck.

John stumbled and fell on his ass inside the tent in surprise before quickly sitting up to look outside at the radical change of the weather. John sadly watched as his once lit campfire ring turned into a small pond. Maybe the frogs would enjoy it after the dark clouds stop crying. The younger sighed and rubbed his hands down his arms in an attempt to not freeze now that lighting a small fire was out of the question.

John flinched when something warm was draped over his shoulders unexpectedly. He glanced at it and recognized Arthur’s jacket before his big doe eyes looked up at the older man. “Thanks,” He muttered in a grateful tone before slipping his arms into the sleeves. He liked how he instantly felt warm since Arthur had the jacket on for the whole day, and the man was basically a walking furnace.

Arthur responded with a low throaty hum before he dug through his satchel, pulling out assorted biscuits and handing them to John, who gratefully accepted it and began eating. Arthur also pulled out canned pineapples and stowed salted beef to fill their bellies up for the night. “Guess we’re stuck here then.” The light-haired man sighed, leaving the tent flap open since John was enjoying the view as he ate.

“Stuck in  _ one small  _ tent with  _ you _ . Could this night get any worse?” John joked while his mouth was full of pineapples, the juice dribbling down his chin. His eyes widened when Arthur’s thumb caught it and wiped it before it dripped down to his clothes. John had no idea how he managed not to choke on the pineapples at how fast his heart was racing. John didn’t believe what the man did next that he painfully swallowed the half-chewed pineapples all at once when Arthur sucked the juice from his thumb. John’s eyes were glued on Arthur’s mouth.

“You know I could throw your sorry ass out’a my tent and leave you to freeze.” Arthur smirked as he grabbed a piece of salted beef and chewed it.

John blushed when he caught himself staring and quickly played it cool, looking at Arthur’s eyes instead of those damn lips of his. He playfully glared at the older man for what he said before reluctantly scooting away from him. “You wouldn’t.” John said with certainty, sass laced his tone as he was sure Arthur wouldn’t do such a thing – well, not the Arthur he used to know.

Arthur stared hard at John for several seconds, as if he’s about to pounce and toss the boy out at any minute but instead, his face broke into a smile that made John’s stomach flutter. The older man just shook his head fondly and continued to eat. John couldn’t remember the last time Arthur smiled like that.

After the two ate their questionable choice of dinner, they decided to sleep in the same tent since the rain didn't look like it was stopping anytime soon. The idea of sharing a tent, or better yet, a bedroll with Arthur made John feel all giddy. He’s always loved sleeping next to Arthur when he was younger, there was never a time where he didn’t feel safe when they’ve slept in the same tent back then.

“Goodnight, Arthur.” John mumbled softly as he snuggled himself under the thin blanket, laying on his side and facing away from Arthur.

“Goodnight,” John heard the man mutter before he felt him shuffling around to lay down behind him, tucking more of the blanket around John just like he used to. Arthur’s chest was touching John’s back, his right arm tucked under his head as a pillow while his left one rested on John’s waist since he had nowhere else to put it. John knew Arthur was only doing this to exchange body heat to stay warm and the tent wasn’t at all spacious, so he did not have any other choice, unless Arthur also decides to face away from John, but he didn’t. John's heart fluttered, biting his lip to hide his smile.

John slept like a baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

John waited behind Karen to pour himself a cup of freshly made coffee. He had just woken up and felt like the dead. He didn’t get much sleep yesterday thanks to Arthur – kind of. John’s dreams were completely taken over by the blond man; all vivid and extremely naughty for someone who hasn’t had sex in his life, leaving him waking up all sweaty and rock hard with nothing but his right hand to help resolve his problem. No one knew John was still a virgin since Dutch had taken the younger man to the saloon over at Armadillo and handed him a whore in front of everyone when he turned eighteen last year. John still didn’t find himself interested in sex with a woman and was foolishly and madly in love with one particular man to even think about trying anything with some stranger.

John spent half his time with Arthur nowadays, growing closer to the man like they have been once before. John wanted the man to go back to the way he used to be, to who he really was, to break that wall Arthur built around himself. John hated how tense Arthur had become almost all the time, how the man would beat someone without thinking twice just for looking at him funny. He also hated how he never cracked his usual jokes anymore even after two years since the incident. The older man trusted no one, he never let anyone get close or touch him. But John realized Arthur wouldn’t say anything when he sat next to him. The younger male didn’t try touching him too often. He never had a reason to, not anymore. John would cuddle him to feel safe when he was younger, but he’s grown now and it would be awkward. Arthur would probably laugh at him or push him away if he attempted to hug him for comfort. 

The brunet was pulled from his thoughts when a curse left Karen’s mouth, the dark brown liquid burning her tongue. John snickered and grabbed the coffee pot to pour himself the delicious hot drink when he heard Miss Grimshaw shouting.

“Arthur Morgan, don’t you _dare_ walk away from me!” Miss Grimshaw yelled and passed Arthur to block his path to Boadicea. John could see that Arthur looked angry, but Miss Grimshaw looked _pissed_.

“I walk wherever I goddamn please, Susan. Now move out’a my way before I say something I might regret later.” Arthur’s low voice was filled with annoyance, his jaw was clenched and his piercing blue eyes glared at the lady before him.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, boy!” Miss Grimshaw glared right back at the cowboy, showing not an ounce of fear towards the large-framed man. “You’re staying here today to help with the chores whether you like it or not or so help me I will rip that sorry excuse of what you call a ballsack and make Pearson cook ‘em into a goddamn stew then force it down that nasty mouth of yours! Am I clear?!”

John grimaced as he listened to her shrill voice, hand unconsciously hovering over his own balls.

Arthur's jaw muscles tightened; eyes trained on Miss Grimshaw as he seemed to process what she just said before heaving a sigh.

“Christ almighty, woman…I’ll _stay._ ” Arthur huffed out a dry laugh and threw his hands up in defeat before letting them fall back to his sides, walking back into camp.

And that’s when John knew it was going to be one of those rare days where Arthur stayed in camp for longer than a few hours. The man made it a habit to leave for almost a month sometimes and Dutch would start to worry about it to the point where he would send out a person to check if their best man was dead, but of course, he always turned out to be fine. Fine as in alive. John eventually figured out that Arthur was spending his time out robbing folk, fighting and dueling drunk people, and maybe hunting. Arthur _was_ an outlaw after all, so John tried not to think or worry too much about him which he found out was impossible.

-

John was supposed to be brushing the horses, maintaining their hooves, and bringing the horses more hay, but something kept distracting him – or rather _someone_. Arthur was walking around shirtless, exposing his well-built muscles, constantly flexing as he carried potato sacks to Pearson or buckets of water to refill the barrels. The man walked like he owned the damn place with his sweat-slicked muscles that caused John’s mouth to salivate and his prick to twitch pleasurably at the sight. The man’s tan torso was littered with unique scars he got throughout the years. John was just glad the man wasn’t chopping wood yet or he’d embarrassingly be creaming his pants in a second.

John’s heart damn near exploded when he noticed Bessie was standing right next to him, also enjoying the view with a soft smile on her face.

“Jesus, Bessie! Was your plan is to give me a heart attack?!” John gasped, his hand pressing onto his chest where his racing heart was. He internally panicked even more once he realized she caught him staring at the blonde man. John wanted to groan with embarrassment. Of course it was Bessie who caught John ogling Arthur. _Again._ He silently thanked God that he wore one of his old drawers today which are tight on him, concealing his hard-on.

Bessie responded with a light giggle but kept her eyes on Arthur, who was now ready to chop the wood for the campfire. John refrained himself from looking and acting more of a fool than he already was.

“You reminded me of myself just then.” Bessie said with a smile, making John grow more confused than nervous.

“I’m...S-sorry?” John stuttered as he tried to think of any excuse to get out of this humiliating situation that brought even more humiliating flashbacks. “Brushing a horse reminded you of yourself?” He tried to play dumb, hoping she would fall for it. He actually _was_ brushing Arthur’s horse before getting sidetracked by his dirty thoughts. Hosea’s lover only smirked at him before she gave him a light smack on the arm.

“No, silly. You’re looking at Arthur like the way I look at my Hosea.” She pointed out bluntly with a careful smile despite knowing what she said was a sensitive topic for John.

The younger’s whole face rapidly turned a bright red color. “Wh-what are you talking about, woman? I was- wasn’t! I wasn’t lookin’ at Arthur. Why would I look at that ugly bastard?” John stammered with a high voice, words rushed and everything as he denied her claims.

“John,” Bessie seemed to see right through his bullshit, her tone knowing just like her gaze. She sat on a stack of hay and gestured for the younger to sit next to her. John did, he hesitated but sat down and nervously fidgeted with the brush in his hand.

“Ever since...Eliza and Isaac...” she started with a whisper, looking down when she mentioned those names, sadness laced her tone before she cleared her throat to continue. “And even before that. I noticed the way you’d look at him, John.” She whispered as she turned her face to look at the boy , sporting a serious and sincere look.

“Don’t be ashamed of that, darling. I’m only telling you this so you could...be more careful.” She said as she glanced at Dutch who was standing near the campfire, chatting with Bill who recently joined the gang. She did not need to say much after that. John knew what she meant. Despite Dutch saving him from the noose, he knew the man would swing John himself if he found out he was interested in men - interested in one of _his_ boys nonetheless. His fate would probably be worse if _Arthur_ found out. 

“It’s all in your head, Bessie. I don’t know what you’re seein’ but this…this ain’t it.” John insisted and shook his head, his mind whirled with thoughts as he tried to figure a way out of this.

“Stop it, John. I _know._ ”

“...Please don’t tell anyone.” John pleaded softly, closing his eyes to avoid her gaze, afraid to see disgust or disappointment in her usually kind eyes. Instead, he felt her delicate hand on top of his own dirt-stained one.

“I don’t want you to get hurt…for anyone to hurt you, darling. Your secret’s safe with me…but don’t keep it a secret for too long, John. You’ll end up hurting _yourself.”_ Bessie smiled kindly before standing up and walking away before john could say anything else. God, that woman had a big heart and John saw clearly why Hosea loved her.

-

Later that day, John actually had some work done without daydreaming or having Arthur unintentionally distracting him. He had no idea what was wrong with him today, constantly thinking of the older outlaw, his mind completely taken over by him. Speaking of the devil, Arthur was making his way to the campfire where John was, his old dirty clothes replaced with fresh clean ones, his light hair was damp, small droplets of water falling from the ends of his medium-length hair and to his shoulders.

“Mind if I join ya’ll?” Arthur muttered and sat down without waiting for an answer. Around the camp sat Bill, Reverend, Uncle, and Davey. No one answered the man except for Uncle who made a groaning sound and shrugged, nursing a bottle of whiskey.

John felt the air thickening when Arthur sat down with them. He wanted to say anything to break the awkward tension when Davey beat him to it.

“I guess all it takes is Miss Grimshaw threatening to chop off Morgan’s balls for him to hang around camp.” Davey remarked, receiving hums of agreement from the Reverend and Uncle.

Arthur snorted and rolled his eyes and stretched an arm out to grab a whiskey bottle from the box nearby. “Mind your business, Callander.”

“Just sayin’…You too good for us now or what?” Davey pressed, leaning forward on his seat, eyes trained on Arthur as he looked for answers on the man’s whereabouts.

John sighed, feeling an argument was about to breakout.

“Shut your damn mouth, Callander. Why don’t you worry about your own problems first?” Arthur growled but kept his voice leveled. “Using _our_ goddamn money for your gamblin’ addiction. Why don’t you fix that before you talk to me.” His eyes glared with red and orange flames flickering in them from the warm fire.

“What is going on here?” Hosea’s voice interrupted from behind John, making the younger turn to look at him, then at Arthur.

“Nothin’, Hosea…Just Davey bein’ an empty-headed dumbass.” Arthur responded before taking a swig from his whiskey bottle, eyes still on Davey who seemed to have given up on riling the man up.

“Nothing, Hosea,” Davey echoed with a sigh. “Just concerned.”

“Well, okay then,” Hosea nodded, a look of relief falling upon his features.

John did not expect for Arthur to go off on Davey like that and he could see the older man was still tense. “How about a song, Uncle?” John asked, wanting to light up the mood.

“Well, dang! I thought you’d never ask!” Uncle wheezed out a laugh and reached for his banjo, tucking the instrument under his arm before playing a tune.

“In Louisville I met a maid, mark well what I do say! And she was mistress of her trade; it was diddle-diddle-diddle all day!” The old man sang before Reverend joined him.

John smiled and looked over at Arthur, eyes softening when he saw the tension leaving him. John scooted closer to the man, nudging him. “You okay?” He asked quietly so only Arthur could hear.

Arthur turned his head down towards John, his blue irises felt like they were staring straight into the younger’s soul, causing a light shiver to travel down his spine.

“Stew’s ready!!” Pearson’s voice boomed throughout the camp before the two broke eye-contact.

“About time! It’s five in the afternoon!” Dutch exclaimed from a distance.

-

After eating lunch, Hosea commented about needing some herbs for his new hobby, of making tonics and experimenting with them, so Arthur offered to head out to find whatever the man needed because of course he’d take any excuse to ride out of camp.

“The hell are you doin’, boy?” Arthur questioned with a frown when he saw the younger man mount his horse.

“I’m comin’ with ya’.” John said as a matter of fact then saw the look Arthur gave him. “What?”

“No, you ain’t.” Arthur said in a bemused tone. He was on his saddle and ready to leave before John decided to intrude. Though Arthur did not actually look irritated at the boy and he commanded his horse to start walking without really putting up an argument with the younger outlaw.

“But I am, and you can’t stop me.” John rasped with a shrug as he followed Arthur. He knew damn well the older man could stop him, but he won’t. It also has been a while since John and Arthur rode out alone. It seemed like Arthur didn’t mind the boy’s company, but If it was someone else who offered to head out with the older outlaw, he’d most likely tell them to piss off since it did happen a few times before. John only thought Arthur never pushed him away because of his persistence. John _can_ be stubborn.

Arthur only let out a long sigh and lightly scratched his stubble. “Guess I could use an extra pair of hands findin’ them plants Hosea’s askin’ for. If I hear you whining for a second, I’ll gag and hogtie you ‘til I’m done.” The empty threat wasn’t the thing that had John’s cock twitching in his pants, no, it was the way Arthur said it. The man’s gravelly voice caused his body to shudder.

“I-I ain’t gonna complain about nothin’! I’ve been itchin’ to leave camp for a bit anyway.” John responded irritably and rode next to Arthur to peak at the list of herbs he had in his large hand.

When they reached their destination, the two spent damn near three hours trying to find an herb called English Mace, walking around in circles. It seemed impossible to find that damn thing.

“Maybe it don’t exist.” John groaned, his back aching from standing and bending too much trying to identify every plant they came across. “We could bring him any other plant and tell him it’s an English Mace.” John suggested, picking a plant he didn’t recognize.

Arthur snorted and shook his head. “Do you even know Hosea?” He asked rhetorically, walking over to John to grab the plant from his hand to chuck it at his face. “And what did I say about complainin’?”

“Hey!” John growled and jumped away from the older man, shooting him a glare.

“What? Scared of a flower, little Johnny?” Arthur taunted with a treacherous smirk.

“How would you like it then?!” John bent down and grabbed a handful of dirt before chucking it right at Arthur.

Arthur yelped and protected his eyes with his forearms, feeling the tiny particles hitting his skin and falling on his clothes. “Bastard! You tryna blind me?!” He shouted over the sound of John’s chuckling, though he didn’t look pissed.

“Maybe. You don’t even use your eyes anyways, always slammin’ your poor horse against trees!” John leered, watching Arthur swipe off the dirt from his clothes.

“That was _one_ time, you little shit.” Arthur groaned and rolled his eyes before the dangerous smirk stretched his lips once again, giving John goosebumps.

“C’mere!” Arthur suddenly charged at the younger male, sending both of them to the dirt ground.

“Arthur!” John screamed when he felt the man’s fingers on his sides before they mercilessly began tickling him. John thrashed the best he could while being pinned down by Arthur’s comfortable weight, laughing with tears running down his cheeks. “St-stop!” He cried, hands going down to grip Arthur’s strong wrists in an attempt to move his hands away.

“More? That what you said?” Arthur gave a dark laugh and tickled the younger outlaw harder. John’s face was as red as a tomato and he felt like he was about to piss in his pants if the man didn’t stop soon.

“No! no! Arthur, you dick! I’m sorry! Please!” John pleaded in between sharp gasps, wriggling under the man and kicking out his legs. “I’m gonna piss on you!” He threatened, palm slamming hard against Arthur’s shoulder to get him off him.

Arthur stopped but kept the younger pinned under him, smirking. “Apologize properly, Johnny.” Arthur hummed huskily, face too close to John’s own. He could feel Arthur’s minty breath on his lips.

John nodded after swallowing thickly, sweat and tears smeared his cheeks, chest heaving. His heart raced at how close the man was. “I-I’m sorry for throwing dirt on ya’…” He breathed out, feeling Arthur loosen his grasp on him and John took that opportunity to grip Arthur’s wrists and flip them over so that the older man was under him. John straddled his hips and pinned his hands above his head, having to use both hands for each wrist. “Got ya!” He laughed cheekily.

Arthur gasped when his back hit the ground and the man looked up at John, pupils dilated, the blue-green color a thin ring around them. “What’re you gonna do?” Arthur asked in his deep and thick accent.

“Make _you_ apologize for ticklin’ me.” John grinned mischievously and adjusted his hips to get more comfortable.

“John-” Arthur’s breath hitched and he stared intensely at John’s face, sweat running down the sides of his forehead, eyes slightly wide and…anxious. That’s when John felt the thick line against his ass and his heart almost stopped. His grin faltered and he froze, brown eyes staring into the man’s blue ones in silence, their faces still close enough to feel each other’s breaths on their faces.

John only broke to eye contact to look at Arthur’s lips; pink and slightly parted, breathing coming out in short puffs. The younger looked back up at Arthur’s eyes and realized his own hard-on was pressing against the man’s abdomen. His grip on Arthur’s grip must’ve loosened at some point because the older man’s large hands were suddenly on his chest and he felt him push hard. John felt himself being harshly tossed aside and onto the dirt, making him let out a puzzled gasp. He quickly sat up and looked at Arthur before opening his mouth to say something but the man cleared his throat first.

“We should keep lookin’.” Arthur’s croaked coldly before coughing again as he stood up fast, eyes darting anywhere but at John. The man looked skeptical and rigid before turning away to subtly adjust himself over his trousers.

John’s face paled and he only stared at Arthur with nothing but confusion in his eyes. He had so many questions but it looked like the older outlaw wanted to pretend that nothing happened and John was too much of a coward to ask about it.

“Arthur?” John’s whisper had a tremble in it, unsure of what to say or where to start. He stood up slowly and didn’t move his gaze away from the man. “You-“

Arthur was suddenly right in front of him, frustration flickering in his sharp eyes, brows furrowed together as he breathed harshly through his flared nostrils. “It’s been a while since I touched a woman so just drop it, John.” He spoke with tightness in his voice.

John’s heart dropped to his stomach at Arthur’s words. He’s never felt so much of a fool as he did now for believing the man was hard because he was into him or something like that. He looked down at his feet, sweaty hands clenching and unclenching, trying to process what just happened with a perplexed frown. It was too good to be true.

Arthur shook his head and ran his hands down his face, heaving a frustrated sigh when John remained silent. “Christ, that wasn’t supposed to happen.” He whispered more so to himself as he stepped back from John to pick up his hat. “I’m gon’ look over there.” He muttered; a hint of guilt showed in his eyes before walking away.

John’s mouth gaped slightly, trying to get anything out but his brain chose not to function at the moment, not until Arthur was on the other side of the field. He finally closed his mouth before a bug decided to fly in. He looked up, watching Arthur pick up an herb, his figure barely visible from how far he was. John tried to figure it out, why Arthur got hard. Maybe because John squirmed too much when the man tickled him? Obviously…there was no other explanation to how that happened, and it was believable that Arthur hasn’t touched a woman in a long time. Possibly still affected by Eliza’s death. Jealousy always took over whenever John is reminded of how much the man loved Eliza. He wished Arthur would love him the way he loved her, and he knew Arthur loved her enough for him to not look at another woman and grieve for more than a year…he’s still loyal to her even after she passed.

John didn’t bother looking for Hosea’s damn herbs anymore. He marched up to Old Boy and mounted the stallion, tears of frustration burning his eyes. What if Arthur was disgusted that John also got hard from having the man on him? He didn’t have the same excuse as Arthur – well, he did, but he didn’t want to be questioned if he told him he also hasn’t touched a woman for a whole other reason. He stared at the horn of his saddle, the realization that his friendship with Arthur might be awkward now hitting him like bricks. He inhaled deeply and gripped the reins before moving Old Boy forward by poking the horse with his shins. Maybe if he avoided the man, there wouldn’t be any awkwardness between them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is supposed to be longer but its already long as it is, so next chapter will be up soon. I hope you enjoy it! sorry for any mistakes besides the whole thing xx

_The room was steamy, air thick with heat, John’s body was drenched in sweat, his breath was short and vision was foggy._

_“Arthur…” He moaned, back arching up as pleasure coursed through his blood and trembling muscles. The only response he got was a low grunt that drove John crazy. Arthur was on top of him, right between his quivering legs as he moved his cock in and out of John while the younger held onto him for dear life._

_“Don’t stop.” John groaned pathetically, feeling his toes curl up as Arthur completely filled him to the brim with his thick shaft. John’s short fingernails dug and scratched the meat on Arthur’s back, feeling the muscles tightening under his sweaty fingers. Heaven was the only word John could describe how he felt._

_“Arthur!” John gasped loudly when the man hit a spot inside him that spread butterflies right up his spine. His eyes rolled back, muscles tensing as he kept clinging to the older man as a koala would to a tree._

_“That’s it…feel good, sweetheart?” Arthur whispered in his deep and gravelly voice, right into John’s ear, bright pink from the heat._

_John whimpered in pleasure and nodded in response. His brain couldn’t form any other word but Arthur’s name, it was the only thing coming out of his puffy mouth, puffy from being abused by Arthur’s own lips and teeth. His body shook with each long and hard thrust the man gave._

_“Let me hear you say it, baby.” Arthur growled, tugging at the younger long black hair so he would look at him._

_“Yes! F-feels so good, Art…” John sobbed with desire and felt Arthur’s hot mouth on his damp neck, marking him however and wherever he wanted. His teeth bit mercilessly into the delicate skin right under John’s ear._

_Arthur tenderly sucked on the spot for a while to soothe it, certain that it will be purple once he was done with John. “Good boy…” He hummed against the sweaty skin, groaning when John squeezed around him._

_John swore he could feel the man’s cock deep in his stomach, stars clouding his vision every time Arthur pounded into the right spot. He keened and dragged his nails down Arthur’s back, leaving behind angry pink lines on his thick skin. “C-close!” He cried and turned his face, silently begging the man for a kiss with his watery eyes._

_Arthur instantly leaned in to kiss him passionately, lips moving against John’s own before he used his tongue to push past them. The man’s tongue filled John’s mouth and the younger man moaned loudly, his stomach muscles twitching and his legs squeezed Arthur as he approached his release._

_“Arthur! Please, please!” John wasn’t even sure what he was pleading for, he just begged him as the man went faster, hitting that sweet spot each time, causing him to let out a series of embarrassingly short, high- pitched moans before a long out emitted out of him, back arching up, legs trembling violently and his arms constricted around Arthur as he shot ropes of semen across his belly, his hole clenching tightly around Arthur’s throbbing cock. John heard the man groan thickly before feeling his warm seed explode deeply inside him._

John woke up with a start, his heart beating out of his chest, his breathing short and fast. He looked around; his dream confused him as to where he was for a second. He relaxed after realizing he was in his tent. There wasn’t any sunlight that shone through the dark green canvas of the tent, so he knew it was either still night or the beginning of dawn. He tried to figure what just happened and he felt something warm between his legs. He looked down at his red union suit.

“Shit!” He groaned and ran a hand through his greasy hair. He couldn’t believe he orgasmed again in his sleep. Those stupid dreams about Arthur kept haunting him and driving him absolutely crazy. It’s been months since…well, since the awkward incident, and John had successfully managed to avoid Arthur whenever the man was in camp, not that Arthur was looking for him. John usually spent his time in his tent nowadays, too depressed from missing the man to so anything else unless Miss Grimshaw forced him to do chores or if Dutch or Hosea sent him into town for something.

John decided that its best if he cleaned himself now before anyone woke up. He got up from his cot and began stripping off the now dirty union suit, tossing it under the cot so no one would see the damn thing. He grabbed the glass of water he kept on the crate near where he slept, and his bandana before dipping into the water to clean the cum off himself. He grimaced as he wiped the white substance off his prick and stomach before throwing the bandana where his pajamas were, deciding to wash them on his own later at some point. He went to his chest of clothes and dug through it before pulling out a clean pair of jeans and an off-white shirt. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep now so he might as well change into proper clothing to start his day.

Once he was done, he made his way out of the tent and looked over at where Arthur’s tent was. His eyebrows shot up when he saw the man was actually sleeping there, having expected him to be out per usual. John licked his lips, a blush rising on his cheeks as he remembered the dream, eyes lingering on Arthur’s sleeping form, feeling a pang in his chest before he sighed and quietly made his way to the coffee pot. He stood near it, contemplating whether he should just grab a whiskey instead. He shook his head and settled on the coffee.

-

It was sometime in the evening when Uncle rode into camp with a strange lady that no one in the gang recognized.

“Hey, Uncle.” John greeted the old man, curious brown eyes darting between Uncle and the pretty young woman as he walked from where he was fixing one of the wagon wheels.

“What’cha got there, old man?” Bill asked when he saw Uncle and the girl walking towards the campfire after dismounting the horse. Some heads of whoever was within the hearing range perked up at Bill’s question before the gang began gathering around the fire, interested in who Uncle brought in. John could see the shy smile on the girl’s face now that she was the center of attention, a shaky finger twirling a strand of her dark hair. John thought she was pretty and she looked about his age. She had a lot of make-up on.

“This sweet lady right here? This is Abigail.” Uncle introduced with a smile, his arm around the girl’s waist.

John hung back as Uncle explained why he brought her in, but he didn’t bother listening really. He just heard the old man mentioning something about wanting to help her and that she’d help back in her own way. Dutch and Hosea were next to Abigail, wanting to know more about the girl before accepting her into the gang. By the looks of it, she was going to fit right in. Dutch looked too interested in that poor lady and John didn’t miss the hungry look the leader gave her. John noticed Arthur standing nearby, probably listening to Abigail explaining her situation.

Abigail suddenly looked up and caught John looking at her, causing the younger man to freeze. He quickly gave her a small smile before looking away, his cheeks turning pink.

“John! Come meet Abigail instead of staring!” Dutch chuckled and the blush on John’s cheeks only deepened. Dutch just _had_ to expose him. He sighed and got up to greet her instead of being rude and staying away. He could feel piercing blue-green eyes staring hard at his face, but John ignored it and sat near Dutch and Abigail, nodding hello at her.

After everyone settled down and went on with their day, doing what they usually did, John went to his horse to prepare everything before he rode out, intending to wash his cum-stained clothes at the nearest river.

“H-hi, John.”

John turned his head to see who it was, not really recognizing the soft voice. He was surprised to see it was the new girl in camp. “Oh! Hey, Abigail. You settlin’ well ‘round here?” He asked as he quickly closed the flap of his saddlebag, hiding the dirty clothes before she could see them.

“Yeah, it’s better than where I lived before.” She answered with a blush on her pale cheeks. “Ya’ll seem like good people…in a way.” She said with a small smile, tucking a dark loose stand behind her ear.

“Good people?” John snorted and heard her laugh softly. “We ain’t good to the rich folk, but we’re just tryna survive, I guess.” He shrugged and patted Old Boy’s neck before giving him an apple for putting up with him. The horse gratefully chewed his snack.

“Yeah, I guess. So, where you headed?” She asked with a small frown when the brunet mounted his horse.

“I’m just headin’ out for a bath. You ain’t smelled nothin’ funny when you came to talk to me?” John joked and to his surprise, Abigail giggled.

“Oh, you don’t stink so bad.” She smiled and backed up a little. “I’ll let you go then. See you later, John.” She waved before walking off. She seemed like a sweet girl, shy and nice. John wondered why she came to speak to him instead of someone like Mac, Davey, or Arthur – the attractive men. Well, Arthur left a while ago. Maybe she just wanted to get to know everyone. John mentally shrugged and rode off camp.

Once Old Boy arrived somewhere near the familiar river, John told the horse to slow up before he dismounted and grabbed the clothes and a cake of soap. He was walking down the path before noticing someone was ass naked and washing himself in the water. John huffed out a small laugh and decided to not bother the feller. He walked a bit farther from the man so it wouldn’t be awkward and hoped it was far enough to not be seen. After stripping off his clothes, John slowly walked into the freezing water, breathing audibly as he endured it. He couldn’t help the hiss that came out once the water reached his balls.

“Fuck!” He shivered but continued to push in until he was waist deep. He did not dare to go any deeper. He was no swimmer after all. 

He began scrubbing the filth off his skin using the soap, being extremely careful as to not slip on the slimy rocks under his feet. He moved on to clean his hair. He hated that part, having to dunk his head under the water to get the soap off. Once his hair was clean from grease and dirt, he lifted a leg up to scrub it and that was the biggest mistake he’s made in his life. He gasped loudly when he lost his balance and slipped backwards, his body fully submerging underwater and he instantly panicked when the current pulled him deeper into the river and further down the stream. His arms and legs lashed out, trying to grab onto any branch or rock to just reach up to breath, but he couldn’t. So, that’s the way he dies, by fucking drowning. He never even got to kiss Arthur.

He began feeling a burn in his lungs, yearning for oxygen. John continued holding his breath as he flailed but just as he was ready to accept his fate, a strong hand wrapped around his bicep, forcibly pulling him out of the water.

John gasped in a deep breath of sweet oxygen before he aggressively coughed out the small amount of water he swallowed, his whole body violently shook from fear and cold. He realized whoever pulled him out was talking to him, warm lips again his ear. John was pressed up against a warm, hairy chest, and there were sturdy arms wrapped tightly around his waist as he was carried out of the deep side of the river and to the shallow side. His wet hair covered his eyes so he couldn’t even see who it was if he wanted to.

“-Christ, Marston, what the hell were you doin’? Tryna kill yourself?” It was Arthur’s voice and now John was confused. Did he die? Was he in heaven?

“John?” Arthur asked worriedly, holding the younger male to warm him up, hands rubbing up and down the skin on John’s back and arms. “You’re okay.”

John looked up as he coughed and gasped for air, hastily moving the long hair from his eyes. It was indeed Arthur. The taller man was looking down at him with nothing but concern in his perfect eyes. John forgot that he was mad at the man for a second, enjoying how Arthur was looking at him, how his thick arms felt wrapped around his slim frame with no clothes separating them. John blushed before forcing himself to move off of the man’s hold with shaky legs.

“I’m fine! What the hell are you doing here?” John shouted as he panted, frowning deeply at Arthur, still in a state of shock. He was shivering badly and his arms went around himself in a pathetic attempt to stay warm.

“Me? I came here to bathe. Didn’t realize I had company before I saw arms flappin’ ‘round in the goddamn water.” Arthur responded in a staggered tone, eyes wide with worry as he looked at John. “You almost drowned, you fool! Is that really the first thing you wanna say to me?!” He exclaimed and moved closer, grabbing John’s arms to get a better look at him and make sure he’s okay.

John groaned and tried to squirm out of the man’s grasp. “Let go! I said I’m fine!”

“No. Look at me.” Arthur growled, shaking John a little until he stopped struggling. John shot daggers at the older man, still breathing heavily.

“You alright, Johnny?”

John suddenly felt shy when Arthur’s low voice became soft while sporting a genuinely concerned expression. The younger looked off to the side, wanting nothing to do with the man’s warm gaze, though his still cold and trembling body sought it.

“Alright…” Arthur’s eyes didn’t budge from John like he’s waiting for his labored breathing to return back to normal before he spoke again.

“You’ve been avoidin’ me.” Arthur muttered quietly. “Why?”

A scoff escaped John’s mouth. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” He evaded Arthur’s hard stare, swallowing thickly and trying his best to ignore that both of them were standing a bit too close to each other, naked. John has seen Arthur naked before, and the other way around since the way they lived doesn’t come with the luxury of having privacy.

Arthur’s chest raised with the long breath that John was so desperate for just moments ago. “I may be a stupid bastard but I ain’t that stupid. I know what this is about, but Christ, John…When I said to drop it, I didn’t mean never speak to me again.” Arthur addressed before digging his teeth into his bottom lip, calloused fingers roughly dipping onto John’s biceps. “I fucked up but you ain’t gonna avoid me for the rest of your life over somethin’ so silly, are ya’?” He asked and moved his face to look at the younger male who seemed so adamant on doing the opposite.

John ignored the painful grip the man had on him, sensing bruises forming there already. “Silly?” John frowned and finally looked up at Arthur, the man who kept bringing back the feelings John tried so hard to push away. “I mean- you’re right. I can’t avoid you for the rest of my life…but hell, Arthur! I _know_ you regret it happening, okay?! So, why don’t you go fuck a woman instead of-of getting hard out of damn nowhere?” John hated how the man looked at him, like he felt bad for John, like he was guilty and that’s the last thing the younger man wanted. It’s not like he wants Arthur fucking other women, but to toy with his feelings like that? Even if it was unintentional, it hurt like hell.

A mix of soreness and something else flickered in those blue eyes John hated that he loved so much. John wanted to take back what he said, knowing the man still loved Eliza and he most probably hit a sore spot telling Arthur to fuck someone already. “John…It ain’t gonna happen again. I just want you to forget about it and move on like normal. Can you do that for me?” Arthur asked instead of responding to John’s scolding.

The only thing that kept John from slapping the older outlaw for being a hypocritical asshole was how tender and gentle his voice seemed to me. The fact that he cared for John enough to ask him to do that, to stop avoiding him, made the younger’s heart skip a few beats. “Fine…Things ain’t gonna…they ain’t gonna be weird between us, right?” John had to ask. It was the reason why he’s been ignoring the man in the first place.

Arthur’s lips twitched, like he was trying to hide a smile, a look of relief took over his once worried expression. “Don’t tell me you ain’t ever been hard over the dumbest things…especially after not bein’ touched in so-”

“Jesus! Okay, we don’t need to talk about that.” John blushed and looked down, huffing out a small laugh. That asshole always made him laugh by bringing up uncomfortable topics and joking about anything he could just to lighten up a situation. At least things aren’t going to be awkward. It hurt knowing Arthur didn’t feel anything romantic towards him, but he could live with that.

“Would you let me go now? I’m freezing.” Arthur still had his warm hands clasped around John’s arms, and the younger was still shivering as the chilly wind brushed against his damp skin. He didn’t understand how Arthur wasn’t shivering in the freezing water.

“Right,” Arthur croaked out before clearing his throat, letting the younger man go so he could locate his clothes. “Don’t slip.”

“Fuck you.” John snorted and walked out of the water, unaware of the pair of blue eyes glued to his ass. Once he retrieved his clothes and put them on, he did a quick job of washing the cum-stained ones, making sure Arthur stayed distracted by putting on his own clothes before he was done. John went to shove the wet union suit in his saddlebags before hearing Arthur coming up behind him.

“You goin’ back to camp?” The older man asked in a gruff voice.

“Yeah…Ain’t really keen on doin’ anything else after almost ending up at the bottom of that godforsaken river.” John muttered, closing the flaps before turning to look at Arthur. He regretted doing that. The blond man had his shirt unbuttoned at the top, revealing his strong chest muscles, dusted with dark blond hairs that John wanted to run his fingers through. He didn’t get the chance to really look at the man while they were naked in the river and he was glad he didn’t, for he’d end up getting a hard on which wasn’t the most ideal thing after just resolving a similar situation without It being too awkward.

“You joinin’ me?”

“I’ll ride with ya’.” Arthur muttered before whistling for his beloved horse; the only thing that kept the man from snapping, John assumed.

After mounting, Boadicea and Old Boy carried the two outlaws away from the river and onto the path leading back to camp.

“So…What d’ya think about Abigail?” Arthur started, his horse trotting next to Johns’.

John looked over at Arthur and raised an eyebrow. “Abigail? Uhm…Well, she seems like a sweet girl. Dutch and Hosea like her. I don’t think I mind her being a part of this gang.” He said with a shrug. “Why?”

“Just askin’.” Arthur grumbled, head turning the other way from John, hiding his expression from the younger man.

“Well…what about you?” John asked after a few seconds of silence.

“What?”

“…about Abigail.”

Arthur took in a sharp breath. “I ain’t complainin’ as long as she kept the gang satisfied.”

John knew what he meant. Uncle didn’t exactly bring the girl in just out of the goodness of his heart; she was a whore, and he knew he wasn’t going to sleep in peace and quiet tonight. He saw how Dutch looked at Abigail, and John only hoped they’d do it somewhere out of everyone’s earshot.

-

The next day, John woke up not feeling the best. He was groggy and tired, having only slept for three hours before the sun came out. He was right, last night was nothing close to peace or quiet. John heard all the moaning from Dutchs’ tent next to his, and there was nothing more painful than hearing the moans of someone who practically raised him. The sex didn’t last all night, and it wasn’t the only thing that kept John up. The younger outlaw just couldn’t stop thinking about what happened back at the lake. Arthur’s beefy arms around his waist and his warm breath against his skin. John wished he could make those feelings vanish.

When John walked out of his tent, he didn’t expect to see Dutch, Hosea, Davey, Mac, Bill, and Arthur standing around the table which had a map on it. The younger marched up to them with a deep frown on his face.

“You plannin’ something without me?” John asked, voice filled with annoyance, and he stood behind Arthur and Dutch, crossing his arms.

“Yes.” Arthur simply answered, not bothering to turn to look at the shorter man. Dutch however, did move to face John, sporting a sheepish look.

“Good morning, John.”

“What is this about, Dutch?” Hissed John and made his way between Dutch and Arthur to look at the map. “What are you robbing?”

“There’s a reason why we didn’t want to include you in this, son.” Dutch needled as he was forced to shuffle to the side a bit to make room for John around the table.

“Go back to sleep, Marston. Let the _men_ handle this.” Davey bantered, earning a light shove from his brother, Mac, and a chuckle from that bastard, Bill.

“You ain’t funny, Davey-” John argued before Dutch interrupted the two.

“Boys, you don’t want to wake the rest of the camp up.” Dutch put his palms up in a calming manner, looking between John and Davey who shut their mouths at the idea of waking up Miss Grimshaw. “Now…John, it’s a dangerous job and I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be a part of this.” Dutch stated firmly but kept his voice gentle to not further agitate John.

“Well, tell me what the job is!” John stressed, looking at Dutch with pleading and persistent eyes.

“We’re robbing a train.” Dutch sighed at the look John gave him and turned his head away. John knew Dutch couldn’t resist his puppy eyes.

“Some rich folk will be headin’ towards Blackwater via train. It’s gonna be filled with guards. You see how badly this could go?” Arthur explained gruffly, raising his eyebrow at John.

“And? I’m a good gunman, I can handle a train with you.” John insisted, “Hosea!” He turned to look at the man who stayed quiet this whole time. Someone ought to back John up in this.

Hosea sighed. “I’m sorry, John, but I think Dutch Is right. It’s too dangerous and the plan could go south really quickly.” The older man gave John an apologetic look. John was about to argue when Arthur spoke up again.

“You’re too inexperienced for this kind’a job, Marston! One fuck up and you’ll end up with a bullet in that goddamn head of yours.” Arthur growled, grabbing John by the collar to make him listen. Arthur may sound pissed but John could see the worry flickering in his blue eyes. John grabbed Arthur’s wrists and roughly moved the hands away from him.

“I’m going with you. I ain’t no kid anymore! I’ve robbed folk before and I can damn well rob a train full of snobby bastards!” John objected, glaring at the blond man.

“Fine.”

Arthur’s eyes widened, brows furrowing. “Dutch…”

“No, Arthur,” Dutch put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, squeezing gently to calm the man down. “He’s right.” He turned to John who wore a smug smirk. “He is not a kid anymore. The more we are, the better. We could take down the guards quicker and rob everyone in the train before the law could suspect anything, but we have to stay alert in case something goes wrong and lawmen start showin’ up.” Dutch elaborated, pointing at a spot on the map spread on the table. “Arthur and mac will be the ones to stop the train when it passes this point here…”

John listened intently as Dutch explained the plan thoroughly, ignoring the piercing blue eyes that bore into him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to share your thoughts about this story! Any comment is very much appreciated.


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